The Shadow of Great Britain

The curtains in the west study of Kensington Palace were only half-drawn, allowing the morning light to slant in and illuminate the dark green leather-covered desk.

The clock on the wall had just passed half-past eight, and an attendant, clad in a silver-gray cloak, softly announced, ”Viscount Melbourne has arrived,” before quietly withdrawing.

Victoria sat at the writing desk, having changed into a dark blue corseted gown, her hair tidily arranged with a few strands softly trailing behind her ears. Her hand rested on a quill pen, beside which lay three freshly written letters, addressed respectively to her Uncle Leopold, her sister Feodora, and her aunt, Queen Adelaide, who had just lost her husband.

Although it was highly improper to continue addressing Adelaide as Queen from an etiquette perspective, Victoria insisted on using this title.

Just earlier, during a breakfast with Baron Stockma and Arthur, this decision of hers was endorsed by her two trusted ”private advisors.”

However, unlike Victoria, who was driven by sincere feelings and unwilling to harm her aunt over a mere change in title, her advisors viewed it as a move likely to win public favor, suggesting it was worth doing despite breaking decorum.

The door creaked softly as Viscount Melbourne entered.

As he approached, Victoria suddenly realized that the Whig Party leader was taller and older than she had expected.

Though she had caught a distant glimpse of Viscount Melbourne at a banquet in Windsor Castle before, this was their first close encounter.

But this did not mean Victoria was unfamiliar with Viscount Melbourne; she often heard his name in conversations and sometimes caught stories about his embarrassing incidents in the whispered gossip of the ladies-in-waiting’s tea gatherings.

The noble circle of London buzzed with numerous bizarre tales about this 58-year-old leader of the Whig Party, such as his free-spirited nature or the story where he had three barbers spend three hours plucking every gray hair from his head.

There were also discussions about his alleged ”extramarital affair” scandal with Lady Caroline Norton, and tales of his late wife, Caroline Ponsonby, whose affair with Lord Byron caused quite a stir. Occasionally, older female attendants would mention his mother, the former mistress of George IV, the old Lady Melbourne.

However, such matters scarcely counted as major flaws in the noble circles, especially for Viscount Melbourne, who was more of a victim. The Marquis of Cunningham, the Lord Chamberlain who arrived this morning with Arthur, similarly climbed the court ranks and became an attendant during George IV’s reign and the Lord Chamberlain under King William IV, largely due to his mother, who was also a mistress of George IV.

The Marquis of Cunningham’s mother was the last and most voluptuous of George IV’s numerous mistresses. There was a well-known depiction of old Marchioness Cunningham within London’s upper circles: devoid of any thoughts or opinions, possessing only hands to receive pearls and diamonds, and a massive balcony adorned with them.

Yet, Victoria would occasionally hear unsavory rumors about Viscount Melbourne through some peculiar channels.

For instance, a powerful figure behind Nightingale Mansion once hinted that Viscount Melbourne might be addicted to whipping games, consistently taking the role of the wielder, speculating it might be related to his upbringing and tumultuous romantic history.

Of course, that particular information source was not necessarily reliable, especially considering Viscount Melbourne’s astonishing indifference during the Cold Bath incident under his tenure as Home Secretary, trying to pin all responsibility on Scotland Yard’s ”unauthorized actions” afterward.

But for the newly ascended Victoria, among the many government departments in Britain, none was closer to her heart than Scotland Yard.

After all, even when she was still the Crown Prince, Scotland Yard had always extended her the utmost respect and courtesy.

This morning as well, the same respected officers escorted the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord Chamberlain, Marquis of Cunningham, into Kensington Palace.

Now, as she sat facing this man, she kept her emotions in check.

Just as Arthur advised during breakfast: You are the Queen, and even if you dislike certain people, you must learn how to converse with them.

”Your Excellency,” Victoria stood up and began, ”Thank you for coming early. I understand that this morning’s arrangement might have been quite abrupt for you as well.”

”It’s my duty, Your Majesty.” Viscount Melbourne knelt slightly, performed the hand-kissing ceremony, and then stood, ”Your Majesty, today’s situation is extraordinary. From dawn, messengers have been hurrying between Windsor, White Hall, and St. James’s Palace, with crowds gradually gathering on the streets of London. Within approximately two hours, the majority of the Privy Council members and many political figures will gather at Kensington Palace. We expect it to number around two hundred and twenty people.”